The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [101]
Rosette spun as her mount backed away, the leather reins slipping fast through her gloved hand. She could scarcely clench her numb fingers against the leather as her arm snapped to its full length. The horse’s forelegs were braced against the tension, nostrils flaring.
‘Whoa now,’ she soothed, stepping forward to stroke the rigid neck. ‘They’re more dangerous at night, it seems, so we have hours to go before we’re dog food.’
‘This is not a joking matter, Rosette.’
‘Isn’t it?’ She looked wildly around as the horse backed further towards the edge of the trail. ‘We’re scaling a mountain, ice and snowdrifts hiding sudden drops into oblivion. The trail’s so narrow we couldn’t turn around and go back, even if we wanted to. And we don’t want to.’ She shook her head. ‘We want to go on, straight towards the howling that has me, and the horses, feeling like glass about to break!’
An’ Lawrence opened his mouth to reply. She stopped him with fierce eyes.
‘But wait,’ she said, ‘I’m not done. Not only are we close to freezing to death, again, on a trail made for something the size of a miniature goat, we’re to meet up with these wolves that are neither wolf nor human and…well, of course I can’t finish that sentence because I haven’t the faintest idea of what comes next. The horses are terrified. The temple cats are edgy…’ she held up her hand ‘…and, to top it off, I just found out who my real parents are, but there’s no time for my own flesh-and-blood father to tell me why in the name of all the underworld gods it took us twenty-two years to meet!’ She slipped a few paces back as the horse dragged her. ‘I mean, if you can’t laugh at this, I’d love to know what you do find amusing.’
An’ Lawrence raised his hand, mouthing a few words towards the alarmed beast. Rosette felt the boost of magic whiz by her. The horse’s neck dropped immediately, blowing a soft, languid snort. He took a step forward to rub snow-speckled eyelids on Rosette’s shoulder, the quivering in his limbs subsiding.
Why didn’t I think of that?
‘Listen,’ An’ Lawrence hissed at her, brushing snow off his shoulders. ‘I know there’s been no time to talk, to explain about…anything, and there’s no time now. We have to focus on getting up this cliff. The summit is not far.’
‘And then what?’
‘And then we have to make contact with the beasts, before nightfall.’
‘I get the feeling they will be meeting us whenever they please,’ Rosette countered.
He shrugged. ‘In this, daughter, you’re probably right.’
Rosette had a piercing retort ready on her lips, but she didn’t speak. It was the first time anyone had called her daughter since she’d fled Lividica. Certainly it was the first time she’d heard it from him. An’ Lawrence hadn’t taken his eyes from her the entire time she ranted, but it was clear that he was much more concerned about their immediate danger than anything else. Fair enough. Up until this moment, she’d been venting her rage. She was cold and angry and hurt by his detachment. She was more perturbed by his lack of communication than any theoretical danger. She realised now the wolves-not-wolves were much more of a concern than the teething problems of their relationship.
‘Right,’ she said, turning towards the howling sounds. ‘Lead the way.’
An’ Lawrence continued up the narrow path with Rosette following, guiding the now placid horse behind her. Scylla stayed close to An’ Lawrence, and Drayco brought up the rear. By noon they’d crested the peak.
The view from the plateau took Rosette’s breath away. The sky cleared, offering a panoramic vista. Drifts of snow-powdered wind raced along inches above the ground, reminding her of the Mobbie Desert where white sand blew over the contours of the dunes, shaping and reshaping them in endless rows of corrugation. The horses’ hooves crunched into the virgin snow, leaving prints that were quickly erased by the wisps of powder. Rosette took a deep breath and walked into the circular clearing. It was the heart of the peak, the heart of Los Loma.
‘This is it,’ she said, realising